


Smolder

by therumjournals



Series: Karl/Zach Camping [2]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Camping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-31
Updated: 2010-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therumjournals/pseuds/therumjournals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karl and Zach, first time, on a rainy camping trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smolder

Karl was hammering the last tent stake into the dirt when the first few drops of rain hit the ground.

“Guys, why don’t we try to get everything we need into the tent before the rain gets any worse!” he called toward the car.

There was a flash of lightning as Chris popped the trunk and a peal of thunder seemed to shake the forest around them as they each grabbed a few things and made a beeline for the tent. Karl unzipped the door and the four of them managed to throw themselves inside just before the heavens opened. Then Karl was zipping up the door and yelling “shoes off!” over the sound of the rain, and the tent was a chaotic mass of legs and elbows and whatever they had managed to bring in from the car. The rain pouring down outside sounded like a waterfall, pounding against the roof and rushing down the sides of the tent in sheets.

“So," said Karl, once they’d all managed to get their shoes off and assemble themselves into some kind of seating arrangement on the tent floor. “What did we get?”

“I grabbed two sleeping bags,” Zach said, looking around.

“I got…uh…my bag? And something else, here, what is this?” Chris shuffled around on his knees to see what he’d managed to grab out of the trunk. “Oh. It’s the other tent.”

“That’s great, Chris, that’s going to do us a lot of good in here,” Zach said, rolling his eyes.

“You’re just jealous because you left your duffel in the car. Don’t lie, I know you were planning to change your outfit before dinner.” Zach gave him the finger as they turned to Joe.

“You guys have shitty priorities,” Joe asserted with a grin. He tapped the case in front of him. “I brought the beer. And – the tortilla chips.”

Cheers and whoops echoed through the tent as they opened the case and celebrated Joe’s quick thinking.

“Yeah, well, check it out,” said Chris, reaching into his bag. “I brought cards! Epic Go Fish tournament, anyone?”

Joe grabbed the deck of cards out of Chris’s hand. “We’re playing poker.”

Zach rubbed his hands together. “Oh hell yes. You might as well empty your wallets now, boys.”

“Oh hell _no_ ,” said Chris, grabbing the cards back from Joe. “I stopped playing poker with Zach when I learned that every time he kicks my ass and cleans me out, he goes shopping for ridiculously overpriced hair product the next day.”

“Hey,” said Zach, swiping for the pack of cards and missing, “Some of us like to put a little effort into our appearance.”

“Here,” said Karl, rummaging through Chris’s bag. “We’re playing Uno.” He tossed the fat deck of Uno cards into the center of the circle.

“Fine,” said Chris, jutting his jaw out at Zach.

“Fine!”

“Whatever, dudes,” Joe said, draining the last sips of his beer and grabbing another can.

**

“Any day now, Zach,” Chris drawled, as Zach took another minute to decide whether to use his last yellow and be stuck with only blues and greens, or risk drawing cards.

“Give me a second, Chris. There’s a strategy.” He slowly pulled the yellow card from his hand and placed it on the pile.

“Zach, it’s _Uno_. I swear to god, you are the most competitive person on this planet.”

“I’m actually not,” Zach said. “Joe is.”

“Will you two shut up, I’m trying to think here,” growled Joe.

Zach rolled his eyes and glanced across at Karl, who was studying his cards intently. Zach let his gaze wander over the open collar of Karl’s plaid shirt, that tanned V of skin that Zach always found so enticing, then up to the line of his neck to his stubbled jaw and that half-smile that gave him just one dimple on his left cheek and – oh. Zach’s eyes met Karl’s hazel ones and yeah, that smile was because Karl had caught him looking. Zach felt his cheeks go hot. He looked down at his cards, then back up again to where Karl was still watching him.

“I was watching for tells,” Zach said, only slightly defensively.

Karl cocked an eyebrow.

“Your left eye twitches whenever you have a red seven,” Zach said, giving a half-smile of his own.

Karl threw down a Skip card, Chris cursed, and Zach grinned. “Knew you were on my side,” he said, throwing down a card and ducking the smack that Joe aimed at him for the Draw Four.

**

“Uno!” Joe yelled.

“Fuck not again,” Zach grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I fold.” He threw his cards down on the tent floor and pulled another can of beer out of the case.

“I’m so over Uno,” Chris agreed, dropping his cards and laying down on his back, monopolizing the remaining space in the tent. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting.

Zach glanced up at the tent ceiling. “Still raining,” he observed.

“You’re a veritable meteorologist, mate,” Karl said, grinning.

Zach stretched his leg out over Chris to kick Karl lightly in the side. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

“Okay. Truth or dare?”

Zach caught the glint of mischief in Karl’s eye and regretted ever making the suggestion. “Fuck. Truth. No, dare!”

“I dare you to come outside with me.”

“Did you miss the part about how it’s still raining?”

“Can you grab my book from the trunk while you guys are out there?” Joe asked from where he’d slumped dejectedly after being denied his fifth Uno win. “And maybe a flashlight? It’s getting kinda dark in here.”

“You’re kidding, right?” said Chris, propping himself on his elbows. “You guys aren’t actually going out there.”

“Sure we are!” said Karl, scrambling to his knees. “Come on, Zach, you coming or not?”

Zach gave Chris a helpless look and turned to follow Karl out the door.

Joe zipped the door shut behind them, and he and Chris sat silently for a moment, listening to the drumming of the rain. Then the soothing sound was broken by a very unmanly shriek, the pounding of footsteps, and the frantic unzipping of the door as Zach threw himself into the tent in a mass of long, damp limbs.

Chris and Joe let out cries of protest as they pushed Zach’s soaking wet figure off of themselves and scooted back to make room as Karl dove into the tent, sprawling ungracefully across Zach’s legs.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Zach, “it’s fucking pouring out there! I can’t believe you made me go out there, you bitch, I’m fucking soaked!”

Karl was laughing and trying to maneuver himself around Zach as he pulled off his shoes and made sure the door was sealed shut. “You allergic to water or something?”

“That’s what you get for trying to be macho,” Joe said, draining the last of the beer from his can.

“Seriously,” Chris said, not looking up from his phone. “I swear you’d jump off a bridge if Karl told you to.”

Zach rolled his eyes and ignored the heat in his cheeks. “I hate you all,” he muttered. “I don’t suppose any of you geniuses brought a towel in here?”

“Did you bring my book?” Joe drawled sleepily.

“No,” Karl told him. “Zach turned around before we got to the car, for fear his hair might go flat, which, as we all know, is the first sign of the end of days.”

“Shut up,” Zach said, but his lips quirked up in a smile as he gave Karl a light shove in the chest. Karl swatted his wrist away and Chris looked at them with an eyebrow raised.

“Could you guys quit flirting, you’re getting everything soaked.”

Karl and Zach looked at each other, grinned, and lunged toward Chris, shaking the water from their hair onto his lap as he shrieked and tried to hold his phone out of harm’s way. “Ack, you bastards! Get away from me! Stay on your side of the tent, you psychos!”

Karl fell back, laughing, and yanked Zach back by his waistband to prevent him from getting an elbow in the eye. “Dammit, Karl, I was about to see if he was sexting. Are you sexting, Chris?” Zach asked, laughing.

Karl kept his fingers wrapped around Zach’s belt and muttered, “So let him sext,” and something in his tone made Zach go still.

A beat passed before Karl removed his hand from Zach’s waist, and was it Zach’s imagination or had he brushed Zach’s lower back with his thumb as he pulled away. Zach turned to look at him, but Karl was looking across the tent at Chris. “Chris, mate, can I get that sleeping bag? I’m freezing over here.”

“No,” said Chris, pulling the sleeping bag more firmly onto his lap.

“He needs it to cover his boner,” Zach said, loudly enough for Chris to hear. Chris gave him the finger without looking up from the phone.

“Here,” Zach said, and he reached over to pull the sleeping bag from under Joe’s head. Joe grunted and rolled onto his side, asleep.

Zach shook out the sleeping bag and held it for a moment, glancing awkwardly at Karl. “Um…you still cold?”

Karl shrugged. “Are you?”

Actually, Zach felt like his skin was burning, like he could feel the steam rising off of him, but… “Yeah, a little.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Zach looked around the tent at the remaining floor space. “Here, I have an idea.” He shoved the case of beer out of the way and stretched out, patting the floor beside him. Karl hesitated for a second before he moved to lie down on his stomach next to Zach, and Zach pulled the sleeping bag over them. Zach reached down into the sleeping bag, squirming a little. Karl scooted a few inches away and looked at him suspiciously, but Zach ignored him and gave a cry of triumph as he managed to maneuver his phone out of the pocket of his tight, wet jeans. He propped himself up on his elbows and pulled up the Oregon Trail app on his phone. He gestured for Karl to move closer. “Here, come here, check it out – Oregon Trail. Awesome game, very educational.”

Across the tent, Chris muttered something under his breath.

“What was that, Pine?” Zach asked.

“I said you’re a huge dork. And you better not put me in your fucking wagon, I always get bitten by a snake or some shit.”

“You’re just jealous that you don’t have the Oregon Trail app on your stupid-phone.”

“Whatever, dude. I have bowling.”

“You’re not playing bowling.”

“How do you know?”

“Because when you play bowling on your phone, you’re either fist pumping or cursing. Usually cursing, because you _suck_.”

Chris aimed another rude gesture in Zach’s direction, which they could barely see in the dim light of the late evening. Zach closed Oregon Trail and started a text message as Karl shifted closer to peer at the screen. He typed “I want you all up in my wagon, you sexy bitch.” Chris’s phone lit up and Zach and Karl watched, stifling their grins as Chris read the message.

“You guys are assholes,” Chris said, but he was kind of laughing. He rolled onto his side, facing away from them. “I hope you both get dysentery.”

“Don’t you dare jerk off in there,” Zach warned.

Chris pulled the sleeping bag over his head as his phone lit up with another text.

  
“Anyway,” Zach said, “we have to choose who’s in our wagon. Mother – okay, that will be you,” he said, typing in K-A-R-L.

“Fuck you,” said Karl. “You’ve got to be the dad then.”

“Oh is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” Karl said, nudging him with his shoulder. Zach’s laugh caught in his throat as he felt Karl’s foot hook over his right ankle and settle there. Zach swallowed hard, stared at the screen of the phone, typed in his name. He risked a sideways glance, but Karl was staring intently at the screen as if nothing had happened, pointing and saying “Oooh, put JJ Abrams in our wagon!”

Zach forced a chuckle, added JJ’s name, and started the wagon on its journey. His mind in was in two places at once, half showing Karl how to shoot a buffalo, half noticing how his skin tingled where Karl’s ankle lay hot against his. Karl was avoiding his eyes, all his attention seemingly on the game, and Zach worried for a second that he was overthinking things, until he felt Karl’s knuckles brush intentionally against his wrist. Zach let his eyes flick down to Karl’s hand, then back up to his face, to the dimple that meant Karl was smiling, though his eyes were still on the wagon as it trudged through the rain.

“Ah shit, mate,” Karl said, pulling his hand away to point at the screen. “Chris got bitten by a snake.”

“That always fucking happens,” Zach murmured. He wanted to move closer to Karl, to do _something_ , but he could already feel the press of Karl’s body all along his side, and it was so distracting that he fumbled with the phone, missing three buffalo in a row.

“Give me that,” Karl said, grabbing the phone from him.

“Oh like you’re better? You haven’t gotten a single one yet, Kiwi.”

Zach let himself look at Karl, his face lit up by the screen in the near-total darkness of the tent. He was biting his lip in concentration and Zach’s eyes traced the line of his jaw, the shadow of stubble, and he couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel under his lips. Fuck. Zach shifted under the sleeping bag, trying to adjust himself without being obvious about it. He needn’t have worried, as Karl was intent on aiming, shooting and – “WOOHOO” Karl whooped as the pixilated buffalo dropped dead on the screen.

“Karl, shhhh,” Zach said, laughing, and he reached over to press a hand over Karl’s mouth. “You wanna wake everyone up?” he whispered, and Karl caught his eye, shook his head, and caught two of Zach’s fingers between his teeth.

Zach’s eyes widened and he almost gasped as Karl’s tongue flicked against his fingertips. A flash of heat surged through him, settling in his groin, but before he could do anything about it, Karl opened his mouth, releasing him, and looked away. Zach stared at him, imagined he could see the blush creeping up his cheek, and reached up to run a fingertip along the line of Karl’s jaw. Karl shifted a few inches away, turning the phone so Zach couldn’t see the screen, and Zach frowned. His cock was throbbing in his jeans and he was so far beyond deciding whether to ford a fucking river.

The light of the screen got brighter as Karl turned the phone back toward him, and Zach glanced down to see that Karl had opened up a text box. The words in all-caps, bold and black on the white screen – “WANT YOU”.

The heat in Zach’s belly flared and he couldn’t breathe and he dragged his eyes up from the screen to find Karl looking at him, his eyes dark and serious and _asking_ , as if he needed to, and Zach didn’t look away as he pulled the phone from Karl’s hand and hit the power button, plunging the tent into darkness. He waited for a second, but Karl didn’t move, so he leaned in to press his mouth to Karl’s jaw, that stubble tickling the sensitive skin of his lips just as he’d imagined. He brought a hand up to touch Karl’s cheek, but Karl stopped him, threaded their fingers together and turned to meet Zach’s mouth with his. It wasn’t so much a kiss – kissing was loud, and despite the murmur of rain on the roof, the tent felt silent, sacred. Their tongues reached tentatively for each other between their open mouths, brushed against each other, played and tangled as they breathed the same air.

Zach’s senses were heightened, and he could taste the tortilla chip salt from Karl’s lips, could feel the roughness of Karl’s tongue against his, and his dick throbbed against his zipper. Then a buzzing sound echoed through the tent, a light flashed, and they pulled apart quickly as Chris rustled in his sleeping bag, answering another text. Zach’s heart was pounding like he’d just been caught but Karl was smiling, almost laughing at Zach’s startled expression, and Zach leaned in to press his face into Karl’s neck, to mouth “fuck” into his skin as he waited for his heart rate to slow.

He felt Karl nudge his shoulder and he pulled away, propping himself on his elbows as Karl shifted next to him, turning onto his side. He felt Karl’s warm breath on his cheek, the rough scrape of teeth, and he tilted his head to let Karl lick a silent trail along his jaw. Karl’s hand settled on his back, and the hard line of Karl’s erection pressed against his side and he dropped his head to focus on breathing again.

The floor of the tent was damp and smelled of nylon and feet, and Zach’s elbows were digging painfully into the hard ground. He whispered “fuck it” and reached back to pull his t-shirt up over his head, wadding it into a ball so he could use it as a pillow. He shivered as Karl ran his fingertips along his bare skin, up and down his spine, and he shifted slightly, pressing his hips against the ground, biting his lip at the friction and wondering just how quietly he could get off. Karl’s hand was on his ass now, kneading him over his jeans, sliding down to press hard fingertips between his legs, and he bucked up a little and bit his tongue to stifle a groan.

Karl’s lips were at his ear, an almost silent whisper, “Zach, fuck, wanted you for so fucking long, god, want you so bad,” his hand squeezing at his ass, fingers rubbing against his hole and Zach wished like hell that his jeans weren’t between them. But there was nothing he could do, except to let Karl touch him like he was and grind his cock harder into the ground, rocking slowly, subtly, as little movement as possible but _god_ he needed more. He pushed himself up on his elbows again, put a hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t whimper as he felt Karl move his hand away.

Then he felt Karl’s hand against his side, he was unbuttoning his fly, he was going to touch himself, _oh god, oh fuck_. It took every fiber of Zach’s being not to give in, not to roll over and pull off his jeans and jerk himself off, but he quieted his breaths, stilled his movements, wanting to feel Karl next to him, Karl’s hand sliding into his jeans, cupping himself over his boxers – suddenly Karl went completely still next to him, and Zach had a second to wonder why before he heard a grunt from the other side of the tent and a shadow loomed up off the floor. It was Joe, fucking hell, Zach could have killed him, but he held his breath and waited with one eyebrow raised as Joe reached to unzip the tent door. Then he was kneeling in the doorway, reaching for his fly and – “Joe, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Joe jumped in surprise. “Jesus, Zach, you scared the shit outta me. I’m taking a piss, what do you think?”

“Joe, that’s disgusting! You can’t just pee out the tent door!”

“Watch me, bro,” Joe said, and they could just hear the stream off piss hitting the ground over the constant backdrop of the rain.

Zach could feel Karl shaking with silent laughter next to him, but he didn’t think it was funny at all, he could fucking feel his boner wilting and he clenched his jaw in frustration. Karl rested a warm hand on his lower back, slid it down over bare skin until he could slip his fingers under Zach’s waistband, and yeah, okay, he was hard again.

Joe zipped his pants and the door and turned toward them. “You bastards took all the sleeping bags,” he grumbled. Zach felt a tug on the blanket and kicked, hissing “You snooze, you lose. Go back to sleep!”

Joe was too tired or too drunk to argue, thank god, and he flopped back onto the tent floor without another word. They waited, frozen, seconds ticking by until Joe’s breathing turned to snores. Then Karl’s tongue was on Zach’s ear, wet and needy, and he pressed down on Zach’s back, urging him to rut against the ground again while Karl moved his hand back to his own fly. Zach could feel Karl’s knuckles against his side as he touched himself, and Zach shifted his hips, sliding his cock against the ground, getting closer as he felt Karl squeezing his own dick, stroking slowly, silently. Finally Zach couldn’t take it anymore, reached a hand down to cup his bulge, and the added friction was all he needed, one more thrust into his palm and he was coming in his jeans, shaking, letting his forehead drop onto his damp t-shirt and he bit down hard on the back of his hand. Karl was still touching himself, burying his own gasps in Zach’s hair, and Zach turned toward him, scraped his teeth across Karl’s cheek, whispering “Karl, god, so fucking hot, want you to come,” and pressed their mouths together in time to swallow Karl’s moan as he came against Zach’s side.

They lay still, panting quietly in the darkness, letting the sound of the rain slowly drown out the sound of their breathing, close enough to look into each others’ eyes. At some point, Zach thought about how nice it felt to be holding Karl’s hand, too tired to wonder how it had happened, their fingers twining together between their bodies as they drifted off to sleep.

**

Zach woke up slowly, a content, giddy feeling squirming in his belly like he’d just woken up from a nice dream. Or, wait. He opened his eyes, drew in a breath – his face was pressed into Karl’s arm, damp with drool. Karl was on his back, his head on Zach’s t-shirt, and as Zach watched his jaw clenched and unclenched, he swallowed, opened his eyes and turned to look at Zach. The corner of his mouth quirked up, a solitary dimple appeared. “Mornin’.”

Zach slid closer, moving to kiss him, but he stopped himself. He lifted his head and peered around the tent. In the weak morning light he could see Joe, still passed out, with his head on the crumpled case of beer. Chris was a lump under a sleeping bag in the other corner. Zach turned back and leaned down to press a long, soft kiss to Karl’s lips. Karl reached up to run a fingertip down his cheek, and Zach pulled away to look into his face.

“Still want me in the light of day?” Zach whispered with a smile.

“More than ever,” Karl whispered back, and Zach felt his cock twitch again, and he shifted closer to Karl, wrapping a leg around his waist and pulling the sleeping bag over them. They drifted off to sleep again like that, and when they woke up the sun was higher in the sky and the tent was hot, moisture steaming up from the damp ground. Zach slid away from Karl’s side, pulled the sleeping bag off, and was sitting up to pull his t-shirt on when he noticed that Chris was awake and watching him from his sleeping bag. Zach looked away quickly, slipped his t-shirt over his head, and glanced up at the roof of the tent. Huh. No rain. He thought about maybe getting _out_ of the tent, but then Karl grunted and flopped over so his knee was resting against Zach’s ankle, and suddenly Zach wasn’t so keen on moving.

He startled a little as Joe sat up abruptly, looked around, curled his lip and said “Ugh. Smells like spunk in here.”

Zach felt himself flush, turned slightly to see if Chris had noticed, only to see Chris staring resolutely at the floor, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

Ah.

Zach fought back a grin and smacked Karl in the leg. “Wake up.”

“Huh, what?” Karl mumbled. He sat up a little, sniffed the air. “God, this tent stinks.”

Zach leaned forward to unzip the tent and he peered outside. “Wow, you guys. It’s a beautiful day out here. Get your lazy asses up and check this out.” He stepped carefully out of the tent, calling back to them, “Careful not to step in Joe’s pee.”

“What are you talking about?” Joe asked, squinting as he followed Zach out the door. “What the fuck even happened last night?”

“What _did_ happen last night?” Chris murmured pointedly as he shoved past Karl out the door of the tent.

“You go first,” Karl said, and he stepped out into the morning.


End file.
